montréal reflections: day ten

NOTE: We are on holiday for rest and reflection in Montréal before a new year of engagement, teaching and creativity begins. This is the ninth in a series.

When I first traveled to the then Soviet Union the tour leader told our group: "You need to ride easy in the saddle on a trip like this because anything could happen." He wasn't kidding then - 1983 - and his advice remains useful 36 years later. Remember yesterday when I wrote about a trip embracing all things "new?" Well, we woke up this morning to a massive leak in our wee Montréal bedroom. After consulting with our host - who is conscientious and kind-hearted in spades - it seems that a repair next door on an upstairs balcony was trapping rainwater that was leaking throughout the building. He was "Johnny/Janey on the spot" getting repair people out and now there are massive, humming, industrial dehumidifiers restoring well-being to the flat. No white noise machine needed tonight!

Later in the day, we took the Metro down to the McGill University stop to get the new Louise Penny novel at Indigo. We took the advice of a local and ate lunch at Mr. Steer - no, really, it is called Mr. Steer - a kosher diner on Ste. Catherine that has been specializing in fresh beef since 1958. It was really good and we were feeling fine when we made it back to the Metro just at the start of rush hour. Sadly, our line had been delayed for an hour because someone pulled the emergency brake. Once we figured out what the French-only announcement was telling us, it made sense to hoof it back home rather than wait in ignorance. Every trip here seems to include at least one unplanned 3+ mile walk - and today was the day. No local jazz tonight! Just a light supper and maybe "Derry Girls" on the Netflix lap top IF the Internet connection remains working.

We have to travel on a budget - now more than ever - so AirBnB and the like work well for us. We have stayed in great, creative, beautiful and truly unique places. Each visit brings us to a new neighborhood where we get to see how real people live and get to talk with everyday working shop keepers about life on their street. Both Di and I would not travel any other way. 

Sometimes, however, things can be a little funky. If you're ready to ride easy in that saddle, all is well, but these trips are NOT like a cruise. I think of the flat where we had to pretend to be the owner's old friends visiting from out of town because crabby neighbors did not approve of AirBnB. Or the flat with almost no water pressure for the shower. Or the third story apartment with an outdoor circular stairway that was so steep, it made us both woozy. Or the tiny Zen room in Ottawa that I was initially locked-out of as the host was in Germany and never got my messages that I would be late because of a blizzard. Her boyfriend gave up on me and left without letting me know where to find the key. Waay too late, I got into town, made text contact after midnight and was told that he'd hidden the key behind a garbage can in an alley behind the building! Finding it in genuinely ugly weather was fun. That was also the trip I thought my wallet had been stolen 3 days before Christmas only to have an Indigo employee find it and save it for me. Today's adventure was mild by comparison and will go into the book as yet one more connection with real people. When everything got resolved, our host came upstairs with a bottle of the craft beers he sells in the shop just below us. Life is good - I am so very grateful - and the beer is called "La Fin du Monde!"

This morning I also had a fascinating experience getting my second tattoo. The artist, Sylvian, has just gotten into the world of remodeling old vans and going to gatherings with other "van people" for camping weekends. It is a realm I know nothing about, but saw his 1988 Chevy van and was enthralled to hear how he's going to keep upgrading it. He has been a tattoo artist for the past 13 years and enjoys the variety and most of his clients. After he did a rendering of the design I wanted, and shaved my left forearm, he said: "Don't tense up, man or fight the pain. Move with it." And then he began. Four years ago, my fear of the pain was greater than the actual event and the same was mostly true today, too. But, it did hurt. It wasn't agony, more like a burning pinch that would come in 4 second bursts. For 30 minutes. And he was right: its best not to fight the pain but move and breathe into it. That's what this entire day felt like: being willing to move and breathe into it rather than fighting it.

That's a great deal of what the wisdom school is asking us to practice: breathing and feeling what is real and how we can be at peace with it all. I need a lot of practice. I am glad to be studying and praying in this way. I am also really eager to see what this tattoo looks like once I'm able to get this wild ass bandage off. But that's for later tonight.